THE DUTIES OF PEACE.
AIDING THE PACIFIC RAILROAD--A FOOL'S ERRAND TO MEXICO--POLITICAL
INTRIGUES AT WASHINGTON--THE TENURE OF OFFICE AFFAIR--WORK
AMONG THE INDIANS--A TRIP TO EUROPE--THE BELKNAP SCANDAL--
SHERMAN'S SPEECH ON MILITARY HONOR--TRAVELS IN THE NORTHWEST--
YELLOWSTONE PARK--WRITING HIS MEMOIRS--LIFE IN NEW YORK--DEATH
OF MRS. SHERMAN.
Soon after the "Grand Review" and his farewell to his faithful
followers, Sherman went with his family to Chicago, to assist at a
large fair held for the benefit of impoverished soldiers' families;
thence to Lancaster, Louisville and Nashville, visiting old friends. He
was then, on June 27, 1865, put in command of the Military Division of
the Mississippi, afterward changed to the Missouri, with headquarters
at St. Louis. Immediately his attention was turned to the Pacific
Railroad, then in course of construction. Many years before, when that
great enterprise was scarcely dreamed of as a possibility, he had
written of it to his brother, urging that such a road should be built,
for the unification of the country, and saying that he would gladly
give his life to see it successfully carried through. It was with much
satisfaction that he witnessed the opening of the first division of
sixteen and a half miles of the Union Pacific, westward from Omaha. He
admired the energy with which the road was pushed forward, and looked
upon its completion, on July 15, 1869, as "one of the greatest and
most beneficent achievements" of the human race. It was to facilitate
the building of the road by protecting it from the Indians that Sherman
persuaded the President, in March, 1866, to establish the new Military
Department of the Platte and to place strong bodies of troops at
various points along the line.
As the mustering out of the army proceeded, many changes in
organization occurred. The most notable was that of July 25, 1866, when
Grant was made a full General and Sherman was made Lieutenant-General.
At the same time political feeling was running high at Washington.
President Johnson had virtually left the Republican party, and was at
loggerheads with the majority of Congress. Grant was looked to as the
coming President, and accordingly many of Johnson's friends manifested
much jealousy and hostility toward him. Sherman was in the west and so
kept aloof from these controversies and intrigues, for which he had no
love. But he maintained his old friendship with Grant, and inclined
toward his side of every disputed question.
While travelling on duty in New Mexico, in September, 1866, he was
summoned to Washington, in haste. Going thither, he reported to Grant,
who told him he did not know why the President had sent for him, unless
in connection with Mexican affairs. Maximilian, supported by French
troops, still held the imperial crown of that country, but was steadily
being driven to the wall by the Republicans, who had elected Juarez
President. The United States was about to send the Hon. Lewis Campbell
thither as Minister, accredited to Juarez as the rightful head of the
State, and President Johnson had ordered Grant to accompany him as an
escort. Grant told Sherman that he would decline to obey this order
as an illegal one, on the ground that the President had no right to
send him out of the country on a diplomatic errand unaccompanied by
troops; he believed it was a trick of Johnson's, to get rid of him.
[Illustration: BATTLE OF EZRA CHURCH, JULY 28TH, 1864.]
Then Sherman went to the President, who was very glad to see him. Said
Johnson: "I am sending General Grant to Mexico, and I want you to
command the army here in his absence." "But," said Sherman, "Grant will
not go!" That startled Johnson, and he began arguing to show the need
there was of Grant's going. Sherman repeated the positive statement
that Grant would not go, and added that he did not think the President
in that matter could afford to quarrel with the General. The upshot of
the matter was, that Johnson decided to send Sherman instead of Grant,
and Sherman consented to go, believing that thus he was preventing an
open rupture between Grant and the Administration.
Sherman and Campbell went to Mexico, and spent some weeks in trying
to find Juarez, who was said to be with his army in the field. Not
succeeding in their quest, they returned to New Orleans, and by
Christmas Sherman was back at St. Louis, convinced that he had been
sent as a ruse, on that idle errand. The President, he believed, simply
wanted to send Grant somewhere to get him out of the way of his own
political ambition.
Now came on the famous "Tenure of Office" affair. Congress enacted,
in March, 1867, a law providing that no civil officer appointed for a
definite term, by and with the advice and consent of the Senate, should
be removed before the expiration of that term except with the consent
of the Senate. On August 5, following, the President demanded Stanton's
resignation as Secretary of War. Stanton, under the above named law,
refused it. A week later the President suspended him and appointed
Grant to act in his stead. Things remained in this state until January
13, 1868; when the Senate disapproved the President's action. Grant
immediately gave up the Secretaryship, handed the key of the office to
Sherman, and went back to army headquarters. Sherman took the key to
Stanton and gave it to him.
Sherman was anxious to make peace, and strongly urged the President to
appoint General J. D. Cox, then Governor of Ohio, to succeed Stanton,
thinking he would be accepted by the Senate. This the President would
not do, and the storm increased. At the beginning of February Sherman
returned to St. Louis, glad to get away from the political intrigues
of Washington, and steadfastly refused to return unless ordered,
though the President himself requested him to do so. Then, determined
to bring him back, the President assigned him to the command of the
Division of the Atlantic. Sherman tried to avoid this appointment, and
threatened to resign rather than return East. Had the President's plans
been carried out there would have been at Washington these officers:
The President, commander in chief of the Army under the Constitution;
the Secretary of War, commander in chief under the recognition of
Congress; the General of the Army; the Lieutenant General of the Army;
the General commanding the Department of Washington; and the commander
of the post at Washington. And the garrison of Washington consisted
of an infantry brigade and a battery of artillery! Sherman protested
so vigorously against such an arrangement that the President finally
agreed to let him stay at St. Louis, and then appointed Lorenzo Thomas
Secretary of War _ad interim_. And soon the famous impeachment trial
came.
Sherman was appointed, in July, 1867, a member of the commission to
establish peace with certain Indian tribes. In that capacity he
travelled widely through the Indian country and had many conferences
with the chiefs. He proposed that the great Indian reservations should
be organized under regular territorial governments, but the plan was
not approved at Washington.
So the time passed until March 4, 1869, when Grant was inaugurated
as President. Sherman was then made General, and Sheridan
Lieutenant-General. Under this arrangement Sherman of course had to
return to Washington, and there he renewed his old association with
George H. Thomas, whom, however, he presently assigned, at Thomas's
request, to the command at San Francisco. There the hero of Chickamauga
and Nashville soon died, and Sherman thought his end was hastened
by supposed ingratitude. Congress ought, in Sherman's opinion, to
have made Meade, Sheridan and Thomas all Lieutenant-Generals, dating
their commissions respectively with "Gettysburg," "Winchester," and
"Nashville."
On the death of General Rawlins, in the fall of 1869, Sherman was
called upon to act for a time as Secretary of War. The experience did
not please him. There was too much red tape, and too much division
of authority, and he was glad to be relieved by General Belknap. In
August, 1871, Rear-Admiral Alden asked him to go to Europe with him, in
the frigate Wabash, and Sherman joyously accepted the invitation, as
he had long wished to go abroad but had never yet done so. They sailed
on November 11, and Sherman did not return until September 22 of the
next year. He visited almost every part of Europe and Egypt, and had
an opportunity of observing European methods in the great German army
which had just been overrunning France.
Life at Washington, with Belknap's assumptions, was now increasingly
distasteful to him, and he obtained permission from the President to
remove the army headquarters to St. Louis. Thither he went in the
fall of 1874, and once more was contented and happy. In the spring
of 1876, however, he was recalled to Washington, on account of the
Belknap scandal. General Belknap, Secretary of War, was charged with
corrupt practices, and resigned, to avoid impeachment. Sherman was much
shocked, for he had always esteemed Belknap highly. Referring to the
case in a speech at a public banquet at St. Louis, before returning to
Washington, he said:
"The army of 1776 was the refuge of all who loved liberty for liberty's
sake, and who were willing to test their sincerity by the fire of
battle; and we claim that the army of 1876 is the best friend of
liberty, good order, and Government, and submits to any test that may
be imposed. Our ancestors never said the soldier was not worthy of his
hire; that the army was a leech on the body politic; that a standing
army of 20,000 men endangered the liberties of 40,000,000 of people.
These are modern inventions, modern party-cries to scare and confuse
the ignorant. We are not of those who subscribe so easily to the modern
doctrine of evolution, that teaches that each succeeding generation is
necessarily better than that which went before, but each tree must be
tested by its own fruit, and we can point with pride to our Sheridan,
Hancock, Schofield, McDowell, and a long array of Brigadier-Generals,
Colonels, Captains and Lieutenants, who, for intelligence, honor,
integrity and self-denial, will compare favorably with those of any
former epoch. We point with pride to our army, scattered through the
South, along our Atlantic, Gulf and Lake forts, and in the great West,
and claim that in all the qualities of good soldiers they are second
to none. I see that some of you shake your heads and whisper Belknap.
Why? What was his relation to the army? He was a Cabinet Minister, a
civil officer, did not hold a commission in the army at all. We contend
that when he was an officer he was an honorable man and rendered good
service, and that this entitles him to charitable consideration. 'Lead
us not into temptation' is a prayer some of us seem to have forgotten,
and we of the army can truthfully say that this offence, be it what it
may, is not chargeable to the army, for he was not subject to military
law or jurisdiction.
"At this moment the air is full of calumny, and it is sickening to
observe that men usually charitable and just, are made to believe that
all honesty and virtue have taken their flight from earth; that our
National Capital is reeking with corruption; that fraud and peculation
are the rule, and honesty and fidelity to trust the exception. I do not
believe it, and I think we should resist the torrent. Our President has
surely done enough to entitle him to absolute confidence, and can have
no motive to screen the wicked or guilty. At no time in the history
of the country, have our courts of law, from the Supreme Court at
Washington down to the District Courts, been entitled to more respect
for their learning and purity; and Congress is now, as it has ever
been and must be from its composition, a representative body, sharing
with the people its feelings and thoughts, its virtues and vices. If
corruption exist, it is with the people at large, and they can correct
the evil by their own volition. If they have grown avaricious and made
money their God, they must not be surprised if their representatives
and servants share their sin. What are the actual facts? We have
recently passed through a long civil war, entailing on one moiety of
the country desolation and ruin,--on all a fearful debt,--States,
counties, and cities follow the fashion, until the whole land became
deeply in debt. The debts are now due, and bear heavily in the shape of
taxes on our homes, on property, and business.
"Again, the war called millions to arms, who dropped their professions
and business, and found themselves without employment when the war was
over. These naturally turned to the National Government for help; and
the pressure for office, at all times great became simply irresistible.
The power to appoint to these offices is called 'patronage,' and is
common to all Governments. Then, again, arose a vast number of claims
for damages for seizures and loss of property by acts of war. These all
involved large sums of money, and money now is, as it always has been,
the cause of a life-struggle--of corruption. Yes, money is the cause of
corruption to-day as always. Men will toil for it, murder for it, steal
for it, die for it. Though officers and soldiers are simply men subject
to all temptations and vices of men, we of the army feel, or rather
think we feel, more in the spirit of Burns:
"'For gold the merchant plows the main,
The farmer plows the manor;
But glory is the soldier's prize,
The soldier's wealth is honor.'"
Sherman set out in July, 1877, for a tour through the Indian country
and the far Northwest. He was absent from home 115 days, and travelled
nearly 10,000 miles. After visiting Tongue River and the Big Horn, he
went to the Yellowstone National Park. In relating the story of his
adventures, he said:
"Descending Mount Washburn, by a trail through woods, one emerges into
the meadows or springs out of which Cascade Creek takes its water,
and, following it to near its mouth, you camp and walk to the great
falls and the head of the Yellowstone canyon. In grandeur, majesty, and
coloring, these, probably, equal any on earth. The painting by Moran in
the Capitol is good, but painting and words are unequal to the subject.
They must be seen to be appreciated and felt.
"Gen. Poe and I found a jutting rock, about a mile below the Seron
Falls, from which a perfect view is had of the Seron Falls canyon. The
upper falls are given at 125 feet and the lower at 350. The canyon is
described as 2,000 feet. It is not 2,000 immediately below the Seron
Falls, but may be lower down, for this canyon is thirty miles long,
and where it breaks through the range abreast of Washburn may be 2,000
feet. Just below the Seron Falls, I think 1,000 feet would be nearer
the exact measurement; but it forms an actual canyon, the sides being
almost vertical, and no one venturing to attempt a descent. It is not
so much the form of this canyon, though fantastic in the extreme, that
elicited my admiration, but the coloring. The soft rocks through which
the waters have cut a way are of the most delicate colors,--buff, gray,
and red,--all so perfectly blended as to make a picture of exquisite
finish. The falls and canyon of the Yellowstone will remain to the end
of time objects of natural beauty and grandeur to attract the attention
of the living.
"Up to this time we had seen no geysers or hot springs, but the next
day, eight miles up from the falls, we came to Sulphur Mountain, a
bare, naked, repulsive hill, not of large extent, at the base of which
were hot, bubbling springs, with all the pond crisp with sulphur, and
six miles from there up, or south, close to the Yellowstone, we reached
and camped at Mud Springs. These also are hot, most of them muddy.
Water slushed around as in a boiling pot. Some were muddy water and
others thick mud, puffing up just like a vast pot of mush. Below the
falls of the Yellowstone is a rapid, bold current of water, so full
of real speckled trout, weighing from six ounces to four and a half
pounds, that, in the language of a settler, it is 'no trick at all to
catch them.' They will bite at an artificial fly, or, better, at a
live grasshopper, which abound here; but above the falls the river is
quiet, flowing between low, grassy banks, and finally ending, or rather
beginning, in the Yellowstone Lake, also alive with real speckled
trout. Below the falls these trout are splendid eating, but above,
by reason of the hot water, some of the fish are wormy and generally
obnoxious by reason thereof, though men pretend to distinguish the
good from the bad by the color of the spots. I have no hesitation in
pronouncing the Yellowstone, from the Big Horn to the source, the
finest trout-fishing stream on earth.
"From the Mud Springs the trail is due west, and crosses the mountain
range which separates the Yellowstone from the Madison, both
tributaries to the Missouri, descends this tributary to the West Fork
of the Madison, and here is the Lower Geyser Basin. It would require
a volume to describe these geysers in detail. It must suffice now for
me to say that the Lower Geyser Basin presents a series of hot springs
or basins of water coming up from below hot enough to scald your hand,
boil a ham, eggs, or anything else, clear as crystal, with basins of
every conceivable shape, from the size of a quill to actual lakes 100
yards across. In walking among and around these one feels that in a
moment he may break through and be lost in a species of hell.
"Six miles higher up the West Madison is the Upper Geyser Basin, the
spouting geysers, the real object and aim of our visit. To describe
these in detail would surpass my ability or the compass of a letter.
They have been described by Lieutenants Duane, Hayden, Strong, Lord
Dunraven, and many others. The maps by Major Ludlow, of the Engineers,
locate several geysers accurately. We reached the Upper Geyser Basin
at 12 M. one day and remained there till 4 P. M. of the next. During
that time we saw the old 'Faithful' perform at intervals varying from
sixty-two minutes to eighty minutes. The intervals vary, but the
performance only varies with the wind and sun. The cone, or hill,
is of soft, decaying lime, but immediately about the hole, which is
irregular, about six feet across, the incrustation is handsome, so that
one can look in safety when the geyser is at rest."
Returning to Fort Ellis, they next rode to Helena, the Capital of
Montana Territory, 106 miles in one day, by a relay of stages. They
visited old Fort Benton, established long ago by the American Fur
Company, also Fort Shaw, and then striking over the country to Fort
Missoula, and then across the Bitter Root Mountains through Idaho and
across Washington Territory to the Pacific coast.
Sherman devoted much time in his later years to literary work, chiefly
in the form of magazine articles, about the war, early days in
California, and other topics of historic and general public interest.
In 1875 he published his "Memoirs," a large volume recording his
military career. Its appearance caused a great sensation, as no other
prominent army officer had, at that time, done such a thing as to
write a history of his own career. The book was written in Sherman's
characteristic style, breezy, vigorous, frank, fearless. Many of its
statements of fact and opinion bore hardly upon others and provoked
contradiction. Sherman took all criticisms upon it kindly, and in
subsequent editions printed them, together with many other messages of
praise, in an appendix to the book. Moreover, there were, as Sherman
himself acknowledged, many errors in the book, originating in faults
of memory and otherwise. As fast as these were pointed out and proved,
Sherman corrected them.
Referring one day, in conversation, to the criticisms of his "Memoirs,"
he said:--
"They amuse me, make me laugh, and frequently, I am glad to say, serve
me a good purpose by calling attention to real defects and errors which
in time will be corrected. I have here a copy of my book with each
error, so far discovered, marked and carefully annotated. When the
work of correcting is completely finished, they will be made public,
either during my lifetime or when I am gone. These 'Memoirs' have been
the subject of much misconception in the public mind. I do not intend
them as history. I offered them as my testimony, simply. I endeavored
to describe accurately the stirring events therein referred to as I
saw them. I do not pretend to say that everything occurred as I say
it does, but as it occurred to me. Other men may have seen things
differently. None of us see things exactly alike. But the records
upon which my book is based are open to all. They consisted of my
correspondence and official reports, making forty volumes of manuscript
letters pasted in letter-books. These forty volumes are in the War
Department at Washington. I had a duplicate copy. One day I sat down
to glance at these letters, and conceived the idea of reducing their
contents to narrative form, but not for publication. I did not intend
that the public should ever read them, except as my posthumous papers.
After I had made some progress in the work, I showed the first sheets
to a few friends. I was urgently advised to complete the labor I had
begun, and submit it to the public in the shape of 'Memoirs.' I took
the advice and so published the book, expected severe criticism, and
got it. I had sense and foresight enough to know that everybody would
not agree with me. No writer ever gets justice from his contemporaries,
and, outside of this, I knew I was liable to err, and only pretended to
give things as they looked through my glasses.
"Now, there were a good many little prejudices among the soldiers
and the armies of the West which the public, at this day, do not
appreciate. For instance, there were three grand Western armies--the
Army of the Tennessee, Army of the Cumberland and Army of the Ohio.
There were unavoidable jealousies between these armies and their
commanders. Their respective triumphs and defeats were the subjects
of undue taunts, ridicule or criticism. My particular army was that
of Tennessee, and it is more than possible, and quite probable, that
I have colored things highly in its favor. Doubtless I was much
prejudiced in its favor, just as you would be in favor of an old
acquaintance as opposed to a comparative stranger. I knew every brigade
and regimental commander in this army, and was familiar with the
fighting capacity of each corps. I knew exactly what division to hold
in reserve, and those to storm a breastwork. Besides I had this army
so organized that I had only to give an order and it was executed. No
red tape nor circumlocution was necessary. If I wanted one of Buell's
corps I had to issue a command, and that had to be repeated, perhaps
in writing from corps to division, and from division to brigade and
regiment, and thus would take two hours to get a body of troops in
motion when time was precious and impetuous action was needed. My army
was one of wild fighters, never so well pleased as when driving the
enemy before them. Buell had a splendid army, but it was slow and
conservative, composed of as brave and stubborn fighters as any other
command, and yet not accustomed to brilliant and quick movements.
"The attack made on me about the 'political Generals' was unfair. I
never used such a term. My sole intention was to mention, in a spirit
of fair criticism, certain circumstances that in a measure defeated my
efforts to have a constantly efficient army. For instance, we would
have a big fight and come out victorious. We would go into camp for an
indefinite period, and with no prospect of an early campaign. At such
periods I noticed that my subordinate commanders who had previously had
political aspirations would strike out for home to see the 'people.'
They would make a few speeches, and as the fighting season approached
they would rejoin their commands. In the meantime, if I wanted to
find out anything about the exact condition of each division, the
transportation, or the commissary or quartermaster affairs, I could
find no responsible head to give me official information. Such things
tended to destroy the discipline, and consequently the efficiency of
the army, and it was a matter to which I had good reason to object. I
wanted commanders who would stay with their commands, and not those
who cherished ambitious political projects, and who were continually
running off to see the people at home."
General Sherman in 1884 requested to be put on the retired list of
the army, in order that Sheridan might be promoted to the full rank
of General; and this was done on February 8 of that year. A couple of
years later he removed to New York and for the remainder of his life
made his home in that city. He was one of the most conspicuous figures
in society there, a welcome and honored guest everywhere. After living
for a couple of years in a hotel, he bought a house, at No. 75 West
71st St., and there gathered his family about him. In the basement
he fitted up a room which he called his office, and here he received
visitors and answered correspondence. In the hours which he devoted to
these duties he presented a picture which strikingly impressed itself
on the memories of all who saw it. His desk was in the middle of the
room, and there he sat, amid piles of books, records and papers, and
surrounded by old war maps and mementoes. He wore an easy office coat
or a dressing gown, and for aids to his eyesight he had a huge pair of
round-glassed, tortoise-shell-rimmed spectacles. Wielding his paper
knife and taking up his pen occasionally, he would keep busy and at the
same time would sustain conversation with a caller, on whom every now
and then, as he addressed him, he would bend his keen, direct gaze,
raising his brows and looking over the tops of his spectacles. The
walls of this room, too, have often rung with laughter, responsive to
the kindly joke, the ready jest, the queer reminiscence of old times,
inimitably told, with which he made the time pleasant for groups of
his intimate friends, especially his old comrades of the Army. When
a reporter visited him he would get a cordial enough welcome to the
General's nook, but presently old "Tecumseh" would look up and say
something like this:
"Oh, what's the use of bothering with an old fellow like me? Haven't I
had enough publicity? Umph! More than I wanted. Now, my dear fellow, I
like you and your paper, but you mustn't print anything about me; you
really mustn't."
He soon acquired a reputation as a ready and brilliant after-dinner
speaker, and in that capacity figured at many public banquets. His
first New York speech, after he made that city his home, was delivered
at the dinner of the New England Society, on December 22, 1886. At
this dinner Henry W. Grady made his memorable address on "The New
South." General Sherman directly preceded Mr. Grady in the order of
speech-making, and when he arose he got a tremendously enthusiastic
greeting, which visibly affected him.
"Many and many a time," he said, "have I been welcomed among you. I
came from a bloody civil war to New York in years gone by--twenty or
twenty-one, maybe,--and a committee came to me in my room and dragged
me unwillingly before the then New England Society of New York, and
they received me with such hearty applause and such kindly greetings
that my heart goes out to you now to-night as their representatives.
God knows, I wish you, one and all, all the blessings of life and
enjoyment of the good things you now possess and others yet in store
for you, young men."
With this introduction, he told them that he had been celebrating
the same event the night before in Brooklyn, that about two or three
o'clock in the morning he "saw this hall filled with lovely ladies,
waltzing," and he added, "here I am to-night."
"I have no toast," he remarked, "I am a loafer. I can choose to say
what I may--not tied by any text or formula." Then he said that they
called him "Old General Sherman," but that he was pretty young yet,
"not all the devil out of me," and that he hoped to share with them
many a festive occasion.
And he was with the New Englanders and with many other societies
and clubs and parties on "many a festive occasion." His speeches
were always brisk, spicy and enlivened by anecdote and reminiscence.
Chauncey M. Depew regarded him as "the readiest and most original
talker in the United States," and Mr. Depew had many opportunities to
study him in this character, for the two men frequently sat at the same
table and divided the oratorical honors of the evening.
General Sherman was a frequent patron of the drama, and was usually
to be seen in important "first night" audiences. Among his personal
friends were many of the foremost actors and actresses of the day, and
he did many deeds of kindness to struggling but worthy members of the
profession. He was one of the first members of the Players' Club, and
made a notable speech at a supper given in honor of Edwin Booth.
At reunions of army men he was, of course, a most popular figure,
and he greatly enjoyed such gatherings, where he could renew old
acquaintances and refresh his memories of the great campaigns of the
past. Sometimes he was called upon to preside at some army meeting,
and a rare treat it was to see him. For parliamentary law he had no
regard, but he "ran things" according to his own will, with charming
indifference to points of order and procedure. A reporter has given
this verbatim record of such a scene. Sherman took the chair and began
thus:
"The meeting will come to order. Ah, yes! (Nodding to an officer about
to rise.) General Hickenlooper moves the appointment of a Committee on
Credentials (taking a paper from his left vest pocket). The committee
will consist of General Hickenlooper, Colonel A. and Major B. We must
be speedy, gentlemen, in arranging these details.
"General Smith--Did I see General Smith rise?" (A voice: "He's gone
out for a moment.") "Well, never mind; it's all the same. General
Smith moves the appointment of a committee on Resolutions, and it
will consist of (taking a list from his right vest pocket) General
So-and-So. (Looks blank.) That's not the committee, either. This list
I just read is another committee, and it will be moved later. Here's
the right one. (Reads it.) You see, gentlemen, we get our young staff
officers who have nothing else to do to fix up these things in advance."
A voice: "Move to adjourn." The Chair: "Oh, no use putting that motion.
We must fix these preliminaries first. I have three more committees
prepared here."
And so on for an hour longer. But no one ever resented the old
warrior's genial "bossism."
Sherman's last "interview" with a newspaper reporter occurred at his
New York home less than a fortnight before his death.
When the reporter entered the General was seated at a square table in
the middle of the room, and in a despairing sort of way was trying to
find out from a directory where Dr. John Hall's church is situated.
He wore a very extraordinary pair of spectacles--each lens like a
jeweler's magnifying glass. When he had got the information he wanted,
he pushed his spectacles up on his forehead, shook hands and asked what
was wanted.
"By the way," he said, suddenly, "I have seen you before."
"Yes; at the Garfield memorial exercises in Cleveland."
"I remember now," General Sherman continued; "sit down. What can I
do for you? I have very little time; I am going to a wedding at 12
o'clock."
He was asked to talk about Lincoln and old war-times.
"No, no," he said, shaking his head; "I have said all I have to say and
written all I have to write on that subject and all others. I shall not
write any more nor talk for publication."
[Illustration: THE ROAD FROM McPHERSONVILLE--Sherman and Staff Passing
Through Water and Mire.]
Then he stood up and walked slowly about the room. After a bit he
pointed to a shelf of the book-case, where the bulky volumes of the
Nicolay-Hay memoirs stood.
"There," he remarked, "in those ten volumes you'll find all the Lincoln
literature you want; I have made many speeches on Lincoln, but I don't
remember where they are now--I don't remember."
Sherman's first family bereavement was the death of his son Willie,
from typhoid fever, at Memphis, October 3, 1863. The boy had shown
great fondness for military life, and had been playfully adopted as a
sergeant by the battalion that formed his father's headquarters guard.
He always turned out at drills and guard-mountings with a zeal that
both amused and delighted the general, and he was a great favorite with
all the soldiers who knew him. When he died, the battalion gave him a
military funeral, and the heart broken father thereupon wrote to its
commanding officer, Captain C. C. Smith, as follows:
"MY DEAR FRIEND: I cannot sleep to-night till I record an expression of
the deep feelings of my heart to you and to the officers and soldiers
of the battalion for their kind behavior to my poor child. I realize
that you all feel for my family the attachment of kindred, and I assure
you of full reciprocity.
"Consistent with a sense of duty to my profession and office, I could
not leave my post, and sent for the family to come to me in this fatal
climate and in that sickly period of the year, and behold the result.
The child that bore my name and in whose future I reposed with more
confidence than I did in my own plan of life now lies a mere corpse,
seeking a grave in a distant land, with a weeping mother, brother and
sisters clustered about him. For myself I ask no sympathy. On, on I
must go to meet a soldier's fate or live to see our country rise
superior to all factions, till its flag is adored and respected by
ourselves and by all the powers of the earth.
"But Willie was, or thought he was, a sergeant in the Thirteenth. I
have seen his eye brighten, his heart beat, as he beheld the battalion
under arms, and asked me if they were not real soldiers. Child as he
was, he had the enthusiasm, the pure love of truth, honor and love of
country which should animate all soldiers.
"God only knows why he should die thus young. He is dead, but will not
be forgotten till those who knew him in life have followed him to that
same mysterious end.
"Please convey to the battalion my heartfelt thanks and assure each and
all that if in after years they call on me or mine and mention that
they were of the Thirteenth Regulars when Willie was a sergeant they
will have a key to the affections of my family that will open all it
has; that we will share with them our last blanket, our last crust."
Willie Sherman's remains were afterward removed from Memphis and
interred at St. Louis, in Calvary Cemetery, by the side of another son,
Charles, who died in infancy, in 1864. In the same plot the body of
Mrs. Sherman was placed at her death, to be followed soon by the dust
of the great soldier himself.
Mrs. Sherman died in New York on November 28, 1888, after a long
illness. After her burial at St. Louis, General Sherman wrote a brief
note to the editor of _The New York Tribune_, saying:--
"I and family are now returned from St. Louis, having deposited the
coffined body of Mrs. Sherman near 'Our Willie,' at the very spot
chosen by ourselves in 1866, reaffirmed in 1883, and often spoken of
as a matter of course between us. We have followed in the minutest
particular her every wish. Every member of my own family and hers, the
'Ewings,' are content, for no mortal was ever better prepared to 'put
on immortality' than Mrs. General Sherman. Of course, being the older
and subjected to harder strains, I expected to precede her; but it is
ordained otherwise. In due time I will resume my place by her side,
and I want my friends, especially my old soldier friends, to know that
they shall not be taxed one cent, for I have made, or will make, every
provision. I have received by telegraph, mail, card and every possible
way, hundreds of kind, sympathetic messages, all of which have been
read by myself and children. To make suitable replies to all is simply
impossible, and I offer the above as a general answer."
There were left to him six children: The Rev. Thomas E. Sherman, a
priest of the Roman Catholic Church; P. Tecumseh Sherman, a lawyer in
New York; Mrs. A. M. Thackara, of Rosemont, Penn.; Mrs. T. W. Fitch,
of Pittsburg; Miss Rachel Sherman, and Miss Lizzie Sherman. Messrs.
Thackara and Fitch, to whom the two elder daughters were married, were
army officers.